Prey Play
by Acrylic Stain
Summary: A unique Witch gets an unexpected visitor and the rest of her evening falls to chance. God, this is a terrible summary. Tanks to xmodius! n,n happy face. Rated properly for content. READ AT OWN RISK!


**Hello all you happy readers in Left 4 Dead Land! Inki's back!**

**So, this whole little diddy was done after a bit of encouragement from a great author on FFN named xmodius. While my writing will never be as good as his, I will be glad to say that I sure did try. n_n happy face.**

**DISCLAIMER: The Special Infected, the zombie apocalypse genre, and anything of that nature belongs to Valve. I own the subplot and any other characters.**

**WARNING: For all of you who like to complain and get other people in trouble (you all know who you are), this is properly rated M for violence, language, and sexual content. If you feel this will offend you in any way, shape, or form (you all know who _you_ are too), you've been warned. Leave now or forever hold your peace. Thank You.**

"Hurry! Hurry up, before she catches us!"

She could not understand their language, did not process their words correctly or at all. All she saw was the heat of her target through her ruby-colored eyes. He had shot her. He had disturbed her mourning. It doesn't matter that she didn't even _remember_ the reason for her constant tears: she just wanted to destroy the Immune. Make _him_ cry. He was slow, much too slow for his own good. The others had shot at her as well, but the bullets missed their mark. She was closing in, going for the kill.

Her prey stumbled, tripped over the shoe string of his fancy work boots. The Witch screamed in victorious anger and fell atop of him, raising her claws. She stabbed at his spine, aimed for the nervous system structure. He froze, paralyzed, and he cried out in pain. The bullets still came for her as she lifted her prize to take him away for a meal. A living meal. The best form of revenge. She shrieked at the other two shooters, her claws clicking in anticipation. Her ears caught the sound of Hunters, a pack of Hunters. She looked up and saw the hooded cousins watching her. She had the prize. She carried the kill that they wanted to steal.

"Kevin! We have to help him, Stan."

"Carly, he's lost. I don't know why she doesn't run off, but we need to stop shooting before she kills us both. Plus, the Hunters could turn on us. Come on, we have to keep going."

"Kevin! No! KEVIN!"

The Witch ran off after a final screech, still light on her feet even with an extra two-hundred pounds over her shoulders. She weaved through the city park and into an old building, far away from the other Infected. Outside her home sat skulls and remainders of other prey. She had a Hunter's hoodie, a Smoker's tongue, the skull of a Jockey and Spitter, a Charger's arm, and even the body of a Tank she had demolished right outside her door sat against the brick wall. Others avoided her nest. She had a home, and it was hers. No one else's.

She took her feed up into her "eating" area, which was filled with blood-stained bones and other such remains. Her prey had stopped screaming long ago, and she feared that he may have died premature to her feasting. She poked his face and his eyes shot open, pupils constricting in fear. His pulse beat strong in her sensitive ears. She smiled at him. He was terrified, as he should be. As he should have been when he raised the gun to the back of her skull in a terrible attempt to assassinate her.

"Please! _Please_! Don't kill me!"

The Witch turned her head in confusion. Was the prey trying to communicate with her? Was he really trying to save his life after what he had done? She growled in anger. She did not give pity to those who did not deserve it. His scent was filled with fear, but underneath, she found his real smell: Evergreen trees. Pine and wood and sap. He was a forest man, she figured. She took his hands in hers and rubbed a claw over the palms. She didn't cut very deep. He was a lumberjack. Tough hands. Those would be used as trophies. She dipped her claws in a nearby bucket of water and quickly sliced off his right hand, cutting through the bone like she was slicing bread.

"Aaaaaauuuugggggghhhhhhh!"

Her prey cried in pain. She reached into the fire next to her and let her claws grow red with heat. She took the appendage and quickly burned closed his arteries and veins that were staining her floor with blood. The prey's cries grew louder still. She wanted to keep him alive. She repeated her actions with his other hand and stopped to view her meal.

He was a decent-looking man, with shaven brown hair and a forming beard. His eyes were the same color as his hair, and his skin was a peachy tone. He was tall, with defined legs. His musculature was large but not too much, just enough to fill her up for a few days.

The screams had died and his breathing was loud and beginning to annoy her. Still, she did not kill him. There was a method to he madness. She removed his clothing and stood with the articles, moving to a corner. She placed the clothing down carefully and took up a bucket that sat in a fire. The water inside boiled lightly, warm from when she had left fresh ice in the container. She grabbed a stray cloth and went back to her meal. She always liked to clean her food. She was a chef, not a mindless creature. That was why her sisters were so skinny, they only ate syrup and honey and sugar. She enjoyed a bit of meat to the occasional sweet confection.

She rubbed his body down with the wet cloth once, making sure to flip him over to get his underside too. She took a bar of Suave soap, lathered her palms, and rubbed them expertly over his body. Her prey stared at her as though she was crazy, insane, and maybe she was. She knew what she liked, and she liked clean and freshly-prepared food. As her hands grazed over places on his body, he groaned, his breathing becoming labored, and she ignored it. Other male meals had done the same. They were all the same. She moved over his pelvic area without a second glance, ignoring the appendage that was staring at her accusingly. She finished with his feet and rinsed him twice. Her meal was clean, at least. She lifted him from the floor and placed him on the table, letting him dry as she cleaned her floors.

"So...are you going to kill me still?"he asked softly, his breathing having settled.

The noises her prey made were calm, collected, and with much less fear than before. She huffed and finished with the floor, throwing the trash out of her window on a poor snooping Spitter. The scalding liquid caused the lanky Infected woman to shriek in pain and run off. The Witch snorted. It was her home. Hers. She refilled the bucket with ice and placed it on the embers from before, adding more fuel to the fire. She washed her claws and dried them before returning to her prey. His pheromones were swimming with fear and confidence and a hint of arousal. She touched his face slowly, figuring what she would eat first.

She finally settled with his left leg, smelling the hints of the Infection beginning to set in. So much for Immune meat. She glanced at her meal's mouth. God, she did not want him to scream. She snatched up a rag, balled it up tight, and shoved it into his mouth. He tried to fight, but he couldn't move on his own. Paralysis was an amazing thing. Kept doing work so much simpler.

She took her claws and rammed them through his calves, pushing her appendages past the layers of tendons and muscle. His screams were muffled to a decent level. She slowly tore apart his ligaments and destroyed his femoral artery and vein. Blood ran down to the floor in small pumps. She disconnected the leg entirely and went to place it in the fire to cook. She returned and continued with the second leg, and then both arms. She was surprised that her prey was still breathing by the time she was done. Most died quickly, but a few toughed it out long enough to watch what she would do next.

The Witch rammed her claws into his chest and pried open his ribcage, staring at his still moving lungs and his beating heart. She started at the brown eyes that were glazed over and shrugged. She'd had her fun. She ripped out the beating heart and watched the light fade from his eyes. She bit into the organ and swallowed the mouthful of plasma and tissue. After carefully preserving her rations for the next few days, she cleaned once again and threw out the trash. She ate in the privacy of her house, cleaned again, and went to bathe.

She poured warm water into the small basin in her "bathing" room, stepping out of her minimal clothing. She dipped her foot into the water and pulled back. It wasn't hot enough. She picked up a few smooth stones that sat directly in the flames and dropped them in the water. The liquid popped and sizzled as its temperature rose. She removed the stones and tested the temperature once more, satisfied with the change. She slid into the clear liquid and sighed, her muscles relaxing greatly. Her claws grabbed a bar of Suave soap and she lathered slowly and carefully.

Her hands started with her arms, going from the tips of her claws along her hands and to her shoulders. She took care of her upper back with ease and let her hand slide down to her breasts. Her palms traced small circles down her taut tummy, moving towards her sides. Her lower back was paid the same attention as the upper half, carefully rubbed by the dull parts of her claws. She stood in the water and moved her palms over her rump, gliding down the back of her thin legs. She twisted her hands around her ankles and drew her body back up from its hunched position, her hands lathering the front of her legs. She passed over her pelvic patch of hair and rubbed her hips.

The Witch picked up her bucket, drew up water from the basin, and poured it over her head. She closed her eyes, feeling the water cascade down her skin. She did this three more times before setting the metal container aside. She was ready to grab her towel when she turned and noticed that the door was open. Open? She closed that door. It was closed when she had first started her bath. She listened to the air, sniffed twice at her surroundings, and growled softly.

_Hunter_...

The Witch growled again, angered beyond belief. Someone had entered her domain. Something was in her house. This was _her _house. _Her house_! She swerved down the halls, trying to smell the Hunter's path. It was close, the beast, in her "keeping" room when she stored her leftover food. She stood outside the door, not taking notice that she had yet to dry off, or much less pulled on her towel. Not like it mattered. She would need another bath after this fight anyhow.

She glanced into the room, determined to get a good look at her opponent. The Hunter was larger than most, and familiar for some strange reason. She could care less about where she knew the intruder from. It didn't matter right now. She kept watching as he crouched around and sniffed the air. He could smell her, but he shook it off as it being the sole fact that this was her house.

He had on a forest green hoodie and black combat boots that were scuffed up terribly. His claws hit the ground and she saw they weren't longer than hers, but still long enough to easily get to her jugular. He was built strong and sturdy, well enough to hold his own in a fight. But was he strong enough to take down a Witch that was very different than all others? Already, he was failing her tests. He broke into her home rather foolishly and left a trail. He hadn't notice her yet, and he was snooping around her area. Always have the advantage. That was her number one rule. If nothing else, start with an advantage. She had the advantage of knowing the surroundings. She knew where to hide and where not to hide. Where she could surprise him from and where the fool could spot her from a ways away.

She saw him sniffing around in the box where she had stashed her freshest kill. He rose up from his crouch and peered into the container, sniffing madly. She saw the opening and took it. With soundless and speedy movements, she snuck up behind the unsuspecting Hunter and pushed him into the freezer, locking it loosely before running off to hide. She giggled at how easy he was to trap. Suddenly, she heard a loud bang and a shriek of anger. The Hunter was free, and on the hunt.

The Witch ran into her "eating"room and took to a corner, scaling a stack of boxes. She yanked a sheet over her head and watched carefully. The Hunter leapt into the room after her and sniffed the air more carefully. She watched him slink around the main table, saw him freeze momentarily as the scent of prey found his nose. He licked at the table top and the Witch held back her hiss of disapproval.

He moved around the cloths of old prey and dug his nose deep within the pile before pulling back a pair of underwear. She noticed it was hers, an pair that she had worn just the other day. She forgot about trashing it in the remains. He sniffed strongly at the lining and flipped it with his claw. He picked it up in his teeth and placed it back into the pile, returning the stack to its former neatness.

She watched his actions, confused. How could a creature that's careful enough to hid her clothing be foolish enough to disturb the rest of her house? She must have shifted in confusion or made some other noise because he pivoted in her direction and pounced, aiming for the boxes near the bottom. She screeched and leapt off the top of the tumbling tower, rolling to the floor. He didn't attack as she jumped to her feet. He behaved like a gentleman, letting the lady gather herself. He liked to play fair, she assumed. They stared at each other and she noticed something: he wasn't trying to get away from her any longer. He was trying to get _closer_ to her. His crouch was at the perfect trajectory to land _right atop her_.

The Witch growled defensively, standing her ground. A stray breeze came from one of the cracks in her house and she forced away a shiver. The chill of the fall caused her nipples to harden. The Hunter took notice and licked at his dry lips. She growled again, a sharp and powerful warning to run, but he continued to stare at her bare body. He was ravished by her tiny figure, the slight curvature of her frame, and the nice glow her skin gave off thanks to her specialized diet.

He rocked on his heels, his pants...shrinking? He gave her a soft growl, a nonthreatening sound, but still she screamed. He could smell her, the hormones that ran off her skin and attacked his senses. She smelled strange, very sweet and delicious. His brain connected the two scents, the one from the underwear and the one that came from her directly. God, she was so tantalizing. He couldn't resist any longer and pounced.

The Special Infected crashed out into the hallway in a tangle of arms and legs and claws. She was able to claw at him long enough to rise and run off, hearing his hurried footsteps as he chased her. She dodge his leap and ran into her "cleaning room", heading for the tub. Her follower gave an attack growl and pounced at her. She ducked and jabbed at his stomach, but he twisted and landed in the frigid water. He shrieked in surprise and scrambled out of the water. His senses were filled with the scent of cranberries and mango. He shook the water from his head and hissed. His prey was good. She was really good.

The Hunter jumped at her once again, this time succeeding in latching onto a hole in the wall as she scrambled down the hallway. He saw the remnants of her long white hair fly around the corner and began his small crawl for the area. His face stung with soap, but he just wiped his hand over the thin cuts and shook more water from his hair. He could hear her breathing. She was used to short bursts of energy. He could keep chasing her all night, if that's what it took. He stepped into the shadows that gave him a clear view of his prey's hiding place.

She was clicking her claws in anticipation right by the door frame, he could hear. She was planning on slashing at him as soon as he jumped out into her path. He knew better than that. He was smarter than his brothers. They would never have come to the meat-eater's home, prey or no. But he did. He was in charge of hunting, and even though they had caught two meals, he wanted the third. And possibly a fourth.

He gave a low growl, a taunt, and she hissed back. He crouched and gave off a faux attack screech. She ran out into the hall and screamed, preparing to draw blood, when he really leaped and tackled her. He grabbed at her wrists and flipped over her. His boots connected with the hardwood and he pulled her up and over him. She flew through the air into a dark room, landing with a crash. He listened for her kill screech, but all he could hear was her labored breathing. He crept into the room and pulled his hood from over his head. The darkness felt good on his skin, like a tight-fitting glove. He could see the glow of the Witch's ruby eyes as he slunk into her territory. She hissed, but didn't move. He stopped and wondered why she didn't charge at him.

He stepped closer and she hissed louder. Still , she did not move. He let his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. He could see the outline of a table to her left, a pile of cloths a bit away. He moved closer and sniffed the air. The room smelled strongly of her. She tried to move, he could hear her little legs flailing against something soft, but she was still locked in whatever unfortunate position she had caught herself in. He sucked in all his fear and trotted forward, going around her in a sharp arc. She followed, her eyes low to the ground. She screamed for him to leave, but he ignored her threats. She turned until he could not see her eyes and she yanked her entire body towards the door and the bright light outside.

The Witch grunted as she pulled her contorted body and he finally saw what she was stuck in. Her claws had dug into the wall rather deep and she was probably jammed in there pretty tight. He moved closer to her claws and she tried to lunge her body at him and kick him, but she wasn't able to twist her body to the right angle. He placed his snout at her hands and couldn't feel any light breeze from the outside world. She was trapped, and he found himself glad. At least she wasn't ripping his throat to pieces.

He was prepared to go back after his food when he smelled it again. Sweet, delicious, different. His nose twitched and he started sniffing at her hair, following the flowing strands down her back. He saw now why she was having trouble kicking at him; her back was in the air instead of her stomach. She had a lessened rage of movement, and she was angry about it. He continued down her back and found the smell to be stronger as he moved closer to her legs. She cried in anger and was able to kick him in the chin rather powerfully. He snapped at her back, his incisors tickling her skin. He felt her hunch her back down towards the floor, but she quickly cried out again and tried to kick him. He grabbed her ankle before it made contact and pushed it into the soft material she was laying on. His other claws locked her other leg in place. She thrashed against his grip and he nipped at her once more.

The Hunter continued smelling her and following the sweet scent over her butt and down to between her legs. His nose poked at the source and the Witch flinched. She roared and bucked against his grip. She tried to pry her fingers free once more, but they didn't budge. His grip was strong on her ankles and his nose breathed cold air over her searing core. She peered between her legs and saw him, infatuated with her sex. His nose was cold and when he brushed it against her pink skin, she nearly jumped. His hands loosened their grip some and she threw her ankle out of his grip, catching him in the side of his face. He screamed and slashed at her calves. She whimpered at the pain and burst into a fit of tears. He glanced at her but ignored the sudden round of depression.

His nose poked at her sex, droplets of her liquid heat wetting him. He pulled back some and licked off the light cream, and found it even sweeter than his nose had claimed it to be. She moaned loud and continued bawling, every now and again thrashing against his grip and the wall. He put his nose back and lapped at her lower lips. She gasped and looked down at him. What the hell was he doing down there? She felt his rough tongue drag across her core and shuddered. She wanted to cry again, but his attention to her lower extremities was throwing her mind into a fit of confusion. She tried to lower her body onto her mattress, to get him out from between her legs, but when she went to slide her legs between his to lower her body, he growled, his teeth right against her sensitive skin. She froze. He waited until he was sure she wouldn't move again before dipping his tongue into her opening.

A strangled shriek rolled off the Witch's tongue and she pressed her cheek into the mattress. He was confusing her body like mad. She wanted to kill him, and she wanted to smother him. She moaned and whimpered as he continued to lap at her. She was new to such a feeling, scared for her life. Was he going to bite her? She hoped not. She felt her body tremble above him and she whined loud. His claws had a tight grip on her thighs. When she tried to pull her legs closed, he ripped them apart, keeping his face deep within her sex. His nose hit her button, pressing against it. She moaned and felt a flame whip around her stomach. His tongue moved faster, and she was wetting his face. Her tummy grew tighter and she was having trouble breathing. He noticed the sudden change in her behavior and worked harder to get more of her liquid passion. She screamed as she soaked his face with her orgasm, tears falling from her eyes at the sudden release. She buried her face in the mattress and cried.

The Hunter pulled himself from under her, his chin dripping with her essence. He took one of his hands and wiped the rest off his face, licking his palm clean. She forced her body to stay upright, her legs trembling beneath her. He felt a sudden sharp pain down by his hips and notice something. His pants had made a tent, and it hurt like hell. He was also very hot, and that bothered him too. He wriggled out of his hood and tried to get his pants off with as little tearing as possible. Her cries had settled to a light whimper and she was watching him from between her scratched legs. He moved to be behind her, his palms flush on her back. He bent over her form, his nose breathing on her hair. His erection was poking at her still sopping core.

She gave a soft moan when his hot breath on her ear caused her to push back against his manhood. His tongue that had been between her legs not even minutes ago was now lapping at her neck, and she loved it. She sighed and moaned, pushing her hips back to tease him. He pushed back into her, but she pulled her body forward and down, staying out of his immediate range of motion. She gave him a coy smile and he almost drew back. A smiling Witch? God, she was different. He nipped at her neck tenderly, causing her to moan.

She started to recall things from long ago, from what felt like a lifetime. She remember a stranger, a handsome one with the body of a god. She was wary of him, and at one point she grew irrationally afraid of this man. This god who always had his gray eyes on her. She would avoid the stranger and even changed her schedule at school to stay as far from him as possible. And yet, he was always there to taunt her. She recalled a moment at a gym, in the rock climbing room. She was scaling a wall when, lo and behold, he was right below her. She hadn't heard him and had lost her footing, falling into his open arms. She had scrambled onto the floor and stood up. He was stalking her? Trying to get her attention? Well, he sure as hell had it.

"_Hi, Sonya."_

"_What do you want? Why are you following me?" She was moving for the exit slowly, keeping her eyes locked on his. "Answer me!"_

"_I like you, is all. I want to be with you."_

"_Is that why you keep following me? Is that why you keep popping out of nowhere?"_

"_It's not like that." He had started walking towards her. "I don't want to hurt you, honest. Just let me explain." He touched her hand._

_She pulled back. "Get the hell away from me!" She took off running for the locker room, and he was right behind her. She ducked into the girl's locker room and went to hide in one of the showers. She heard the door open._

"_Sonya, give me a chance."_

_She didn't reply. Her heart was pounding in her ears. His shadow appeared on the tile right outside the curtain and he opened it in a flash. He was blocking the exit, and she couldn't call for help. No one was anywhere nearby. He closed in on her._

"_Sonya, please, trust me."_

"_I don't even know you!"_

"_That's why I'm giving you this chance to know me better."_

_He cornered her, forcing her flush against the tile. His large hands grabbed her fragile wrists and locked them above her head softly. His mouth came to hers, but he wasn't forcing her. He was waiting for her to follow his lead. She found his kiss inviting and returned it warily. His free hand slid behind her back to press her body against his. Their kiss grew heated before he broke away. Sonya felt empty now that this handsome and forward stranger wasn't kissing her. He picked her up easily and took her back into the changing room, placing her on the bench. They kissed again as they freed each other of the minimal layer of clothing._

_She didn't have time to get her mouth around his boner before his was diving in between her legs, lapping at her like a dehydrated dog. She arched her back and moaned with zeal. Within minutes, she had drenched his stubble-covered chin in her liquid heat. He wiped off his face and flipped her onto her stomach, her rear high in the air. He rubbed the head of his leaking appendage against her slit and slid in slowly..._

The Witch felt the familiar grip on her back and moaned as the Hunter pushed against her. She pushed back and moaned when the head of his manhood was sucked into her body. She pulled away, effectively removing him from inside her. He growled and tried to move back inside her, but she dipped her back down and missed his thrust. He growled and bit at her again, but she didn't give in. She slowly raised her hips again and dodge him thrice more before he yanked her up onto her knees, held her hips, and thrust into her, burying his pulsing cock into her body. She shrieked and tears of pain fell onto the mattress. He groaned, her walls sucking him inside as she tried to conform to this strange but welcome invader.

He pulled out of her, their growls mingling. He stayed inside her only an inch. She glanced over her shoulder at him and whimpered. He was the one smiling now, watching as she tried to buck against him, as she tried to get him back inside of her. Her whimper became a sharp growl and she pushed onto him fiercely. His grip faltered and her core swallowed him whole. She moaned loud, throwing her head back. She started a slow rhythm, rocking back and forth onto the Hunter's erection. It prodded at her insides and rubbed against her heat. She loved the feeling.

He watched in amazement as she pleased herself on him, enjoying the slow and steady rock she was maintaining. He sighed and moaned, eventually bucking to meet her. She moaned even louder, muttering to herself in her euphoric state. He reached around her stomach and grabbed her breasts, kneading them in his palms. She groaned at the new touch and broke into a pant, her pace increasing. His claws flicked at the diamond-hard buds and teased them wantonly. He took control and began to pound into her, his claws returning to her hips. She dig her face into the mattress and flexed her claws, hearing the brick chip away slightly. She pulled at her stuck digits while keeping herself grounded. She growled amorously, feeling the bubbling rise again.

"_Auuggh! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!" Sonya was on the floor, her face buried in her stray workout clothes. The smell of her own stale sweat turned her on as she was violated with complete abandonment. Her lover grunted in response and dug deeper into her core, one hand on her ass while the other pulled at her long black hair. "Yes!" She screamed as she came, her body drooping as her walls pulsed._

"_Goddamn, Sonya," was the reply to her orgasm as he tried to keep moving within her._

"_Goddamn yourself, big boy. You're still hard as a rock. I can feel it," she purred._

"_If you keep fucking me like that, I won't be for much longer."_

_They kissed over her shoulder as he began to move inside of her, his hips connecting slowly to her body. She turned away from the kiss as his pace increased, her fingers trying to find a place to hold as she fucked him back. Her breath came in short gasps and she flexed against him, trying to have him beat into her like a bitch in heat..._

The Hunter growled shakily, his own orgasm rising as the Witch beneath him panted. His body was glistening with sweat and his hips slapped against her ass repeatedly. The Witch purred and moaned and screamed as he forced her upper body to the ground, giving himself more room to work with. His breathing was becoming labored and his pace faster. He was on the edge of release when she cried out, flopping down onto the mattress, her legs giving out. When she slid off of him, he roared as he came, his hot liquid landing on her back and some in her hair. He collapsed beside her, desperate to catch his breath. His hair was matted and stuck to his face. He didn't care. He was tired, but to sleep in foreign territory was dangerous. He rose to all fours as best as he could and went to pull on his clothes.

She watched sleepily, one last tug during their escapades drawing her fingers free, as he got his clothes on his body. She whimpered and sniffled, ready to cry. Was he really going to leave? She was angry and in pain and upset all at the same time. He replaced his hood over his eyes and crawled over to her, licking her cheek softly until she fell asleep.

The Witch woke up far into the day, sunlight shining through the window in her "sleeping" room. She rose and cried out in pain as her body fought her. She forced herself to her feet shakily and wandered into the hall. What happened last night? She had the craziest dream. She wandered down the hall and noticed things that weren't there before. Like a dent in her wall. Her tub was still full from last night. Her "eating"room window was wide open and letting in the chill winter air. She closed the window and quickly bathed herself. _Was_ it just a dream? She noted the stickiness that painted her back and the lower parts of her hair. When she sniffed it, she quickly ruled out any substance in her house. Did someone break in?

After her bath and cleaning her "sleeping" and "bathing" rooms, she went to her "keeping" room for breakfast. When she opened the freezer, she was shocked. At least half of her rations were missing. Someone had stolen her food! She screeched in anger and pounded her fist on top of the freezer door. She was prepared to start her hunting when there came a crash from the front of the house. She scrambled down the steps quickly and clicked her claws in anger, ready for a fight. What she saw surprised her. An Immune, female, was laying in front of her doorstep. The Immune was trying to speak, but she couldn't move. There were no bonds or anything. The prey watched her with blue eyes. The Witch peered outside and saw a crouched figure down the road, looking in her direction. She shrieked at it, it replied, and the Infected bounded away.

While the Witch was cleaning her new prey, she noticed a smell. It was oddly familiar, and gave her goosebumps. The previous night flashed in her mind and she took a long and deep breath to settle the sudden onslaught. A smile crept on her face. He _was_ a gentleman, and he _sure did_ play fair.

**Review (anonymous and whatnot) are appreciated. n_n happy face.\**

** If you want a sequel, convince me. Enough people say they want more, and I'll cave. n_n haha.  
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